The Inquisitor
by iadakab
Summary: Asher Lavellan didn't want the responsibility that was thrust upon him. He wasn't the Maker's chosen one or any of that nonsense. By the dread wolf, he was an elf! But he found himself growing attached to the people around him and he may not be the Maker's will manifested but he was sure as hell going to try and protect these people. DorianxLavellan slow build
1. Prologue

Asher Lavellan had never asked for this responsibility. Somehow a recon mission for the clan had turned into him being held up as the Herald of Andraste. Andraste! He didn't even believe in the Maker, he was ELVEN but this didn't even seem to faze them. No matter how many times he told them that he wasn't the chosen one, wasn't there by some sort of divine intervention, they simply smiled and shook their heads convinced that he was in some sort of denial.

They had followed him. The humans had agreed to raise an elf onto a pedestal as a sign of their maker and although he rejected their faith he supported their cause. Somewhere along the way he had developed a sense of a responsibility for these people. In spite of their false beliefs Asher found himself striving to meet their expectations. If he walked away now he would not be able to face the crushed faces of all those who had trusted him to help. And although he found it inevitable that they would eventually realize that he wasn't an instrument of their maker, he could not bring himself to crush them so completely by turning from their cause. Not when he was the only one with the power to close the rifts.

And that idiotic sentimentality is how he found himself here in this situation. Honestly, there really must be something wrong with him. Putting his own life at risk for a bunch of humans. Good people maybe, but a race that had brought his own to the brink of destruction. Had all but wiped out his culture and then lowered them to the level of second class citizens in Thedas. Even as these thoughts streamed through his head he found himself turning to Cullen.

"Can you get them out? If that thing is here for me I'll distract it." The words coming out his mouth sounded a lot more confident than he felt. An Old God and an Archdemon. There was no way he was getting out of this alive.

"And when the mountain falls? What about you?" Cullen's voice was laced with concern. Asher was a little startled. A few weeks ago he had been little more than a prisoner who conveniently possessed the power to close the breach. When had the relationship between him and the others changed so much?

Cullen's question was answered with silence. Asher would fight, but realistically he had no real chance of getting out of this alive. He was being stupid, he shouldn't be putting himself at risk but the alternative was unacceptable. For the people of Haven that had gathered around him to die because that monster out there was after _him. _

"Perhaps you will surprise it? Find a way?" Cullen spoke realizing what Levellan's expectations were.

Once again Asher didn't respond. Lashing his twin blades to his back, and ensuring that his armor was fixated tightly to his person Asher turned to the rest of his group.

"I'm coming with you." That was Cass. She had rubbed him the wrong way in the beginning. But after spending so much time with her he had come to admire her passion and bravery. She was devout but not in a way that allowed her to make excuses for the Chantry. When something needed to be done, she was always the first person to be on the front lines. When he had asked her about it she had simply said that she didn't believe in asking someone else to take up a responsibility that she herself was not willing to accept.

"No, Cassandra." Asher shook his head slowly. "I need you to go with Cullen and make sure the rest of these people make it out of Haven safely. We brought them here and promised them safety. With you and Cullen at their sides I won't have to worry about the evacuation."

Cassandra looked like she wanted to argue but one look at the refugees waiting to be evacuated made her nod her head reluctantly. "Take someone with you though. You will need the support."

Asher's eyes scanned over the small group. Surprisingly every one of them looked back at him with determination in their eyes. They were all willing to go out there with him. Even Dorian, whom he had just met, did not shirk away when their eyes met.

He would have told them all to go if he could. But if he did that, there was a chance that he might fail and no matter what happened he needed to make sure that mountain came down or the refugees would not be able to make it out. Steeling himself Asher took command, aware that he might very well be signing their death warrants.

"Blackwall, I need you to take point. If that thing is really an Archdemon we're going to need a warden. Sera, Varric, and Cole I need you to go with the refugees. We don't know where that exit leads. They'll need scouts to guide them. Lady Vivienne, you're with the refugees as well. I would feel better if they had a mage with your experience at their side. Solas and Dorian with me. I'm going to need all the magical assistance I can get against that thing."

It was a strange feeling having everyone follow his orders without question. Asher wasn't sure he would ever get used to that.

_You won't need to. _A little voice inside his head spoke up. _Not like you'll live much longer anyway._

Asher shook his head to clear the thoughts. If he went out there expecting to lose then he might as well be damning everyone. There were three people going out there with him and he would take on the Elder One alone before he let his defeatist attitude sentence them to their deaths.

"They'll load the trebuchets." Cullen spoke gesturing at two of his men "Keep the Elder One's attention until we're above the tree line. If we are to have a chance – if you are to have a chance- let that thing hear you."

Asher allowed Cullen's words to fill him with determination for his grim task. He nodded to Cullen as the man turned decisively to assist with the evacuation effort.

With Blackwall at his side and Solas and Dorian behind him, Asher stepped out of the safety of the Chantry building and focused simply on reaching the trebuchet in time.

Once they were outside the sheer volume of enemies they were faced with no longer allowed any stray thoughts of despair fill his head.

_Stab. Duck. Hack. Parry. Slash. Dodge. _

His mind focused purely on his next move as they fought through the swarm of enemies to the trebuchet. Things were no different when they finally reached the trebuchet either. The party was forced to fight off waves of incoming enemies while Asher adjusted the aim of the trebuchet. His focus distracted he almost did not notice when the towering figure of Knight Captain Denam came up behind him. He was mutated so heavily he was almost beyond recognition but that stream of thought was quickly interrupted as his fists came hurling downward. Asher managed to leap out of the way of the first blow, but the Knight Captain quickly followed his initial blow with another that would have blown him backwards if not for the barrier that divided them at the last minute.

"Don't lose focus!" That was Dorian.

Nodding thankfully for the assistance Asher quickly used his stealth to slip into the shadows as Blackwall came forward to direct the Knight Commander's ire at himself. He took a few blows on his shield before Solas froze Denam in place temporarily, giving Asher the opportunity to sink his blades into the mutation's back. He heard the clash of metal against metal as his blades failed to penetrate the armor. Not letting the opportunity slip by, he lifted his blades and kept pounding them repeatedly into the man's back. Dorian for his part was shooting bursts of electricity from behind Blackwall.

Solas's hands fell to his side as he was unable to hold the cooling spell any longer and Asher was promptly flung off the Knight Commader's back and sent crashing into the wall.

He heard the yell of alarm from his companions as he struggled to get back up. His chest hurt. He must have busted a rib or two and he could feel blood trickling down the side of his head.

_Damn, we haven't even seen the Elder One or the Archdemon yet and I'm already in this condition. GET UP DAMMIT. YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE BEFORE YOU BRING DOWN THAT MOUNTAIN._

Steeling himself for the pain, Asher lifted his head. Eyes coming into focus in time to see the Knight Commander advancing on him. Blackwall desperately trying to get the Templar's attention directed back at himself and failing. Solas launching spell after spell. Both him and Dorian had exhausted their barriers and would need time to recover before they could launch another one. It wouldn't make it in time. Speaking of Dorian, where was the man?

Dragging himself to his feet in an attempt to outrun the Knight Commander, Asher knew that he wasn't going to be able to make it. Fortunately it turned out that he didn't have to. Dorian sent a cracking bolt into the back of Denam's armor. The crack that Asher had made with his earlier persistence split, breaking the armor completely.

Roaring with fury Knight Commander Denam's mutated form turned towards Dorian and began to charge. Asher's eyes widened with alarm. Dorian had saved him, he could not let the price for that action be Dorian's death.

Gritting his teeth he forced his body into action and leapt up onto the back of the commander and drove his daggers deep into the man's chest where the armor had broken. Blackwall then smashed into the man with his shield. Sending them both tumbling to the ground.

Asher groaned from the pain and quickly turned to the Knight Commander but the man did not move. Sighing with relief he slumped back into the ground. But that relief was short lived. They still had a job to do.

"Blackwall help me up. We have to finish aiming the trebuchet before the next wave comes."

"You stay right there and catch your breath for a second. I'll finish it up." Blackwall replied.

Asher wanted to argue but he really wasn't in any condition to do so, so he remained where he was, allowing Dorian to lift him up. Leaning heavily on the Tevinter mage, Asher allowed his eyes to scan the sky, widening with alarm at what they saw. He lifted himself off Dorian and rushed forward just as Blackwall finished adjusting the aim.

"It's the Archdemon! RUN NOW!" Asher screamed as he grabbed Blackwall by his armor and bodily pushed him forward. The others looked up with alarm and quickly began sprinting as fast as they could. Asher was in the rear and his injuries prevented him from moving as quickly as the others so when the Archdemon descended, bathing the town in flames Asher was caught in the explosion and bodily thrown to the side.

Coughing he screamed as loudly as he could, "Keep running and don't look back!"

The others had to believe he was okay or they would turn back and get themselves killed. He was the target here. They had come this far with him and for that he was grateful but there was no need for them all to die in this madness.

Once again he forced himself back to his feet. _This is getting rather repetitive. If I get knocked down again I'm not sure I'll be able to get back up._

There was a figure coming towards him through the flames. As Asher readied himself for an attack. The Archdemon landed behind him with a loud thud. Surrounded with no weapons, Asher laughed bitterly. There was no getting out of this one. All he could do now was make sure he bought enough time for the others to escape. So when the Elder One, approached him haughtily, Asher leapt at the chance to drag out the conversation.

Corypheus, as he learned the Elder One was called, did not seem to realize that Asher was buying time. Or maybe he just didn't think that it would matter in the end.

"I will have the Anchor back. The process of its removal begins now."

As he spoke, Corypheus activated the orb in his hands and a searing pain launched through Asher's hand. His vision blackened once more and it was all he could do to keep from passing out. The as suddenly as it began the pain stopped and Asher looked up at that corrupted face. If it was possible for that face to make any expression Asher thought that it looked frustrated.

Corypheus marched forward and grabbed his hand. Lavellan's body was too bruised and battered to put up much resistance as he was bodily lifted into the air so that his face was eye level with Corypheus.

Corypheus spoke in a low menacing growl "I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own. To champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world. _Beg _that I succeed for I have seen the throne of the gods and it was _empty!_"

He punctuated this last word by hurling Lavellan into the wooden trebuchet.

"The anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling. So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation – and god- it requires. And you, I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You must die"

So Corypheus had not been able to get what he wanted. Smirking, Asher looked up. At least if he was going to die he had stuck it to this bastard one last time.

_But not there is still a job to do. _Asher's eyes fell towards a sword lying close to him on the ground. _One last job before you can call quits. Come on body. We made it this far don't fail me now._

Scraping forward Lavellan grabbed the sword and with his back supported by the wooden body of the trebuchet he spoke his last words of resistance.

"It won't end here! If I'm dying it's not today!" And with that he brought the sword down on the rope that was holding the trebuchet's cargo in place. The rock was launched into the mountainside and not even turning to verify that the avalanche had begun Asher sprinted as fast as his broken body could carry him. _I guess I haven't given up on getting out of this alive after all._

And with that thought a group of rocks fell behind him, the force hurling him forward into a cavern beneath the ruins of Haven.


	2. Chapter 1

Dorian and the others had made it to the Chantry escape tunnel by the time they heard the mountain collapsing behind them. Dorian turned his head startled. They had not managed to fire the trebuchet before the Archdemon had descended upon them, so who had fulfilled their task for them?

"Where's Lavellan?" Solas' alarmed voice spoke from beside him.

Dorian's eyes scanned the group to notice that indeed the Herald was nowhere to be seen. "He was right behind us! He told us to keep running! Don't tell me he stayed behind to finish the job?!"

Dorian's feet instinctively began to move towards the exit to the tunnel. Abandoning a comrade in arms was not something he intended on doing. Even if he had not done so intentionally. However he was stopped by Blackwall's hand on his arm.

"Dorian don't be a fool. The mountain is collapsing. If we go out there right now we're as good as dead." Blackwall spoke fiercely. Dorian could tell that he was furious with himself for not noticing that Lavellan had remained behind. Blackwall was loyal to a fault and would have gladly stayed behind to fight at the Herald's side.

"He told us to keep going because he wanted us alive. The best thing we can do now is catch up to the others and make sure that we don't waste the time he has given us."

Solas nodded in agreement with Blackwall's words but Dorian noticed that he could not help but glance back at the exit to the ruins that would now be Haven, his face laced with sorrow.

It did not take long for the three of them to catch up with the evacuated refugees. Blackwall quickly separated from the party to help an old woman who was struggling through the snow. Solas went ahead to speak with Cassandra and Cullen who were noticeably looking for the missing Lavellan.

Dorian paused, unsure of what to do. He felt out of place, having only recently joined the group. Out of everyone the only one he had spent an extended out of time with was Lavellan.

_And now he's dead. _Dorian reminded himself grimly.

The elf had died alone, to protect a following that insisted he was the herald of a god that Lavellan himself didn't even believe in. These actions spoke of a nobility of character that made Dorian sad that he hadn't had more time to get to know the elf.

The refugees continued their trek, pausing only for a brief respite, until they finally made camp deep in the folds of the snowy mountain. Cassandra and Cullen left again not long after to find any stragglers and ensure their safe arrival to the camp.

Dorian found himself spending the hours that passed assisting the families in setting up their tents and keeping warm fires burning for the refugees. It spoke volumes of how desperate the situation was that people did not even pause to scorn the heretic Tevinter mage but rather quietly accepted his assistance. Morale was low, and the absence of their herald did not go unnoticed.

He was adding kindling to the main camp fire when he noticed Cassandra and Cullen returning, supporting a body between them. Most likely one of the refugees had been separated in the blizzard. As they came closer however, Dorian's eyes widened in recognition.

_It can't be. _

But it was. Those white locks, the pointy ears, the slightly sun-tanned skin, the pale tattoos winding their way around his facial features. There was no one else it could possibly be. The firewood fell from Dorian's arms, hitting the floor with a clatter as Cassandra began shouting for Solas.

Cullen was gently setting Lavellan onto one of the sick beds when Dorian reached them.

"What….how?" he stuttered as Solas quickly pushed him out of the way to examine the body.

"How is he Solas?" Cassandra asked ignoring Dorian's question in favor of hearing the prognosis on Lavellan.

"He has several broken ribs, a sprained ankle, a broken arm, and the onset of frostbite in several areas. That's not even including all the cuts and bruises. In all honesty I'm surprised he was able to drag himself all this way with his body in that condition. I'm going to need help with this. Is there another healer in the camp that we can spare?"

"I'll make sure I find one" Cassandra said running off.

"Dorian if you're just going to stand there make yourself useful. I need blankets and warm water and bandages. NOW." Solas was in full medical mode and normally Dorian wouldn't have taken an order from a near stranger so easily but this wasn't a normal circumstance and Dorian was partly to blame for the state of the body that was lying on that bed so he nodded and ran off to help as he could.

The next few hours were nerve-wracking for the entire camp as they waited for word from Solas. Dorian distracted himself by seeing how many tiny pebbles he could bounce off Blackwall's armor before the man snapped and tried to smack Dorian with the hilt of his sword.

"Now is NOT the time, Dorian" Blackwall growled.

"So much pent up stress is unhealthy. I'm just helping you properly express your emotions – oh no don't you dare – _not the hair you imbecile._" Dorian quickly retreated from what was becoming a decidedly dangerous situation. Unfortunately once again he found himself alone with nothing but his thoughts.

He couldn't get the image out of his mind. The slender frame of Lavellan, broken and battered, being carried into the camp. Somehow he'd managed to drag that body all the way out here, miles into the Frostback Mountains in the middle of a blizzard.

_And what did we do? We gave up and wrote him off as dead. What if he hadn't been able to make it this far? He could've survived the battle and died simply from exposure because we didn't even think to go back and check. _

"Hey, Sparkler. You furrow your brows anymore and you'll be living with a unibrow. "

"Ah, Varric. I was just lamenting the loss of my shirt. These bloodstains are never going to come out. A shame, I rather liked this one." Dorian replied without missing a beat.

"Well if our _Herald _makes it through this I'm sure he'll get you a bear pelt to make up for it."

"A bear pelt? Heavens no Varric. How could anyone see this glorious figure under all that fur? I have a duty to the people of Thedas. Covering myself in a bear cloak would be depriving people of this perfection" Dorian quipped gesturing at his body as he did so.

Varric rolled his eyes in response. "Let's not get ahead of oursel—" his sentence cut off abruptly as something behind Dorian caught his eye.

Curious, Dorian turned around to see that for the first time in hours Solas had straightened up from his task of administering to Lavellan. He looked exhausted. Solas had been by the Herald's side in the fight for Haven, and then again in their last ditch effort to save the refugees. They had then trekked through the blizzard and for the last three hours he had been using his magical energy continuously to heal Lavellan. Understandably the elf looked drained.

As Solas came to rest by the fire, Mother Giselle quickly made sure that he was provided with a decent meal from their provisions. He gave her an appreciative nod and turned to face the rest of their companions that had gathered around him.

"How is he?" Cullen was the first to speak.

"It could have been a lot worse but he will be fine. He just needs to sleep now." Solas smiled weakly.

His words were met with a collective sigh of relief. Lavellan was the only one who could close the rifts. Even with the breach closed there were still so many areas in which the veil had torn and demons were piling through. But more than that, somehow or another all of them had come to rely on Lavellan as both a leader and a friend. The small elf had carried them this far through impossible odds and Dorian wouldn't have been surprised if there were a few among their number that were starting to believe that Lavellan really was the Herald of Andraste.

With Lavellan safely on his way to recovery, the others were finally able to turn their focus elsewhere. The relative safety of their position in the Frostback Mountains coupled with the return of their Herald had completely reversed the entire morale of the camp. In spite of their losses, a light had been lit in the darkness, and hope was an emotion that was capable of sustaining people even through the darkest of times.

Leliana, Cullen, Josephine and Cassandra were gathered together in the center of the camp, not too far from where Lavellan was resting, trying to decide how to proceed from their current situation. However with the clear lack of a leader, their discussion had dissolved into loud bickering. Solas had long since retreated from the main group to recuperate, having exhausted himself both physically and magically. He'd gone off to one of the tents on the edge of camp to rest, saying that if he had to listen to the sound of humans bickering like children any longer he would set the camp on fire himself.

Time passed like this, and hours later the three advisors and Cassandra were still at it. Dorian and the others had long since stopped paying them any attention as it was clear that the four of them were making no headway on the matter. Glancing over to the side, Dorian was surprised to see that Lavellan was not only awake and talking to Mother Giselle. He looked no worse for the wear considering the condition his body had been in mere hours ago. Dorian walked towards them, unsure of whether or not to disturb their conversation. As he stood there debating, whatever conversation they were having became more heated. Lavellan raised his voice and Dorian was able to hear from where he was standing.

"I didn't feel any divine help back in Haven and I certainly don't now. If there's a Maker out there he certainly hasn't helped me any. For now at least, it looks like I'm on my own."

Mother Giselle's response was too quiet for him to hear and whether or not Lavellan was satisfied with the response, the elf stood up and walked a distance away seemingly lost in thought. Mother Giselle stood soon after and began to sing.

_Shadows fall_

_And hope has fled_

_Steel your heart_

_The dawn will come_

_The night is long _

_And the path is dark_

_Look to the sky_

_For one day soon_

_The dawn will come_

The low melodic voice of Mother Giselle carried throughout the camp and heads turned entranced. As she began the second verse, Leliana's voice joined in harmony.

_The shepherd's lost_

_And his home is far_

_Keep to the stars_

_The dawn will come_

_The night is long _

_And the path is dark_

_Look to the sky_

_For one day soon_

_The dawn will come_

By the time the second chorus had come to a close, the entire camp had joined the chant. Dorian even spotted the Knight-Commander Cullen singing with the others. To Dorian the song sounded like hope. With each new verse they sung the voices of Haven's survivors grew stronger and more confident. The song became the equivalent of a prayer or a confirmation of supplication, faith that their maker would see them out of this hardship. Conviction that the Dalish elf standing before them was indeed a sign that Andraste had not abandoned them to their fates. That they could yet still be redeemed.

In the middle of everything stood Asher Lavellan, transfixed, wondrous, and as the people around him took to the knee before him, a trifle horrified. It was no wonder that he felt that way. The refugees of Haven looked to the elf as a miracle, a sign of divine guidance. How daunting it must be to feel obligated to live up to such expectations when Lavellan himself believed that he was alone in his task.

Dorian shivered at the thought. He did not envy the elf for a moment.


	3. Chapter 2

Asher walked the halls of Skyhold, acquainting himself with their new stronghold. They had asked him to become the Inquisitor and he had told them rather bluntly that they were mad to even consider the idea. Honestly Asher was getting tired of insisting that he wasn't this chosen one they all believed him to be. Even after he'd told them all off, Cassandra had maintained her position that he was the best one for the job. Something about the fact that he was already leading them all regardless. In the end it was Solas who had convinced him to take the position. As an Elven Inquisitor, Asher was in the unique position to gain the power and influence necessary to elevate his people to a level of equal citizenship with the other races of Thedas. Asher still wasn't quite convinced that he was the best man for the job, not by a long shot, but the fact remained that he was the _only _man for the job.

Asher let out a sigh. _What's done is done. You agreed to become Inquisitor so there's no use in thinking about it. At this point you just have to suck it up and save the world. _Asher grinned internally. _Just save the world, no pressure._

At first glance Skyhold was an impressive fortress. On closer inspection however there was a lot of work to be done. Asher opened the door to the hall that led to the war table only to be assaulted by a cold gust of wind. Shivering, he wrapped his arms around himself and turned to find the source. A gaping hole in the stronghold wall framed the landscape of the Frostback Mountains. Through it Asher could see the seemingly endless mountain range, and if he pressed himself up to the wall and looked down he could make out the side of the cliff face that was part of the fortress's natural defenses. The cliff plummeted down further than even Asher's sharp eyes could make out, descending seemingly into an endless abyss.

"Do try not to toss yourself off the side of the mountain. It would be such a waste." A voice spoke from behind Asher. Startled, having not realized that anyone had entered the hall, he lost his grip on the side of the wall and stumbled backwards, slamming rather forcefully into the person's chest.

Dorian caught his arms, helping him find his balance. "My apologies Inquisitor I did not mean to startle you."

Asher grinned sheepishly up at him, hoping Dorian would attribute the flush on his cheeks to the cold air rather than his embarrassment at being caught so unawares. As a rogue, and now as an Inquisitor, he could not afford to be so careless. Once again it surprised him how comfortable he had become with those surrounding him in such a short time.

"It's quite alright Dorian. I was just admiring the hole in our fortress. This is a good fortifiable location but Skyhold is going to need a lot more work than I had originally hoped."

Dorian saw the determination in Lavellan's emerald eyes and quietly approved. He had heard that the elf originally refused the position of Inquisitor and had feared that the events at Haven had shaken Lavellan's will irreparably. It seemed however that his fears were unnecessary. Whether or not Lavellan felt he was capable of preforming the task at hand, the look in his eyes told Dorian that he would give it everything he had, regardless of personal risk.

_If Tevinter had more men like him, the Imperium would be a very different place right now._ _Men not focused on power or influence for personal gain but for the benefit of society. _

"Ah, yes. The entire place is quite drab. Where is your decorating committee? I have a few ideas on how to spice up the place. I'm sure even Madam Vivienne would approve by the time I was done."

Lavellan dissolved into laughter at this. "I was talking more along the line of the gaping holes all over the place." He grinned. "Did you know I went to visit Cullen in the ramparts and while his office is fine, his bedroom doesn't have a roof?" The Inquisitor shook his head in a combination of amusement and disbelief.

"That is quite the mental image. Our stoic military advisor curled up in a ball under his blanket as he battles the elements of the Frostback Mountains," the mage chuckled.

Asher couldn't hold it any longer and he buckled down in a rather un-herald-like fit of giggles.

Dorian smiled at this. _I like making him laugh. It suits him._

Asher slowly managed to get himself back under control as he wiped the tears of laughter from under his eyes. He turned to Dorian, his eyes still dancing with levity. "Thanks for that Dorian. Things were getting a little too serious for my liking."

"Dorian of House Pavus at your service." The mage replied with a grand sweeping bow that was entirely for dramatic effect. "However you wound me Inquisitor. You think I jest, but I was actually quite serious about the furnishing. Must I be forced to gaze at these bare walls? A bit of drapery would do the place wonders."

"I'll be sure to let everyone know to consult you when the topic of decorating Skyhold comes up." Lavellan assured him. "I suppose I should get back to work now. I much enjoyed your company, Dorian. Thank you."

"The feeling is mutual, Inquisitor." Dorian turned to leave, a little saddened that their conversation had to be ended so soon.

"Oh and Dorian?"

"Hmm?"

"Call me Asher please. There's no need to stand on ceremony. I could use the comfort of friends a great deal more than the blind admiration of devotees. "

"You do realize you just declared your desire to be friends with the Tevinter mage? Are you sure that's wise?" Dorian responded, his tone light and jesting. Internally however, he waited in apprehension for Lavellan's reply. Too often in his travels he had found himself the recipient of blatant hatred based solely on his country of origin. Despite its problems he truly cared for his homeland so taking a few abuses on its behalf was normally a matter of course. However, he found himself fearful that the elf before him might feel the same. Dorian had come to respect Lavellan and genuinely enjoy his company to the point where he was sincerely taken aback with how much he desired the recognition of the other man in return.

Asher sighed, "Look at everyone around us Dorian. If there's anything I've learned it is that people are people. One's actions dictate who they are more than any stereotype ever could. I've seen nothing in your actions thus far to imply that you are any less of man than anyone here, nor any less devoted to our cause. I would be _honored_ if you would take me as your friend."

A wide grin split across Dorian's face, his heart warming at Lavellan's words. "Don't say I didn't warn you. Regardless, you have yourself Dorian Pavus as a friend, for whatever that's worth. A lot actually, I'm indispensable. Why I could even help you pick out something a little bit flashier for your wardrobe. Something that screams importance. Perhaps some Orlesian silk? We should schedule a detour to Val Royeaux. Your attire is woefully unprepared for any ball, least of all one hosted by the Empress Celine herself at the Winter Palace."

Asher groaned in faux annoyance, smiling at Dorian. "What did I get myself into? I'm regretting this already…..besides what's wrong with my wardrobe?" he added pretending to be affronted.

"Asher, Asher, Asher." The mage replied shaking his head. "If I was to make a list for you, you'd never get to your meeting on time. But never fear! The base material we have to work with is above average." Dorian's eyes regarded Asher's figure with approval as he spoke. "Now go on and be important. Some of us have drapery to pick out. The whole of Skyhold depends on it."

Asher found himself being shooed away toward the war room, heat rising to his cheeks. The feeling of Dorian's eyes raking over his body still lingering.

_Wonder what that was all about. _

Nevertheless he grinned as he walked in to meet his advisors. The banter with Dorian had done much to alleviate the stress he had been feeling. Not to mention it felt good to have someone treat him as just another person as opposed to the near reverence the residents of Skyhold assailed him with.

_If someone calls me 'Your Worship' one more time I swear….. at least now I have a title. 'Inquisitor' is a hell of a lot better._

Asher stepped through the door to the war room to find all three of his advisors already engaged in strained discussion.

"Corypheus could conquer the entire south of Thedas, god or no god" Josephine was saying.

"I'd feel better if we knew more about what we were dealing with." Leliana responded, clearly vexed at the lack of information at her fingertips and at a loss on how to on how to obtain such information. It was obviously not a position she was accustomed to being in.

"I know someone that can help with that." A familiar voice spoke up as the door creaked open. The Inquisitor turned to find Varric looking both determined and a tad apprehensive.

"Everyone acting all inspirational jogged my memory, so I sent a message to an old friend. He's crossed paths with Corypheus before, and may know more about what he's doing. He can help." Varric finished.

Asher nodded gratefully. "Introduce us, Varric. We can always use more allies."

Varric looked over his shoulder nervously before answering. "Parading around might cause a fuss. It's better for you to meet privately….On the battlements."

Out of the corner of his eyes Asher saw Leliana and Josephine share a glance. Did they have some idea who Varric was talking about?

The dwarf must have noticed the look as well because he raised his arms in a gesture of surrender. "Trust me. It's complicated" he sighed before turning to leave the room.

When the four of them were alone in the room Leliana spoke once more. "I know one thing. If Varric has brought who I think he has, Cassandra is going to kill him."

_Well this should be fun. _

The meeting with Hawke left Asher feeling both relieved and more than a little anxious. On the one hand, it was good to have a direction in which to move forward. By the Creators, they definitely needed the information. However, this business with the gray wardens had the Inquisitor on edge. If the gray wardens, a force that represented the combined might of all of Thedas, were vulnerable to corruption by Corypheus, the situation was more dire than any of them could have predicted.

It was decided that Hawke would put them in touch with Warden Alistair. In the meantime, there were plenty of other matters that required the Inquisitor's attention. And as the sound of arguing from within the barracks drifted to his ears, it seemed that one matter in particular demanded Asher's attention more immediately than the others.

The elf ran inside to find quite the scene playing out before him. Cassandra had Varric pushed up against the edge of the balcony and she was _furious._

"You knew where Hawke was all along!"

Varric pushed her off of him and regained his composure. However, he wasn't going to back down. "You're damned right I did!"

His response only served to infuriate Cassandra even further. "You conniving little shit!" Her sentence was punctuated more emphatically by the punch she threw at Varric. Thankfully, due to his small stature and his years of fighting as rogue, Varric was able to slip under the punch and quickly backpedal to the other side of the room – not taking his eyes off of Cassandra while he did so.

"You kidnapped me! You interrogated me! What did you expect?!" Varric's voice was filled with righteous fury. He wasn't going to let Cassandra take the moral high ground in this argument.

Asher had seen enough. For the first time since he received the title of Inquisitor he was going to have to use his authority as their leader, and as their friend, to get things back under control.

"Hey! Enough!" he demanded stepping forward.

Cassandra shot him a glare. "You're taking _his _side?"

This was ridiculous. "_I said enough!_"

Asher could visibly see the effort it took for Cassandra to restrain her anger. When she opened her mouth to speak again, her voice was more respectful, though still barely containing the rage she still clearly felt.

"We needed someone to lead the Inquisition" she explained. "First Leliana and I searched for the Hero of Ferelden but he had vanished. Then we looked for Hawke, but he was gone too. We thought it all connected, but no. It was just you." She turned her head accusingly at Varric. "You kept him from us"

Under all the anger, Asher could hear the pain in her voice. All hell had broken loose in Thedas and Cassandra had lost her one guiding light, Divine Justinia, at exactly the moment she needed her most. All the seeker had left was the last mission she and Leliana had received: to form the inquisition. Not being able to appoint a leader to the venture- Cassandra must have felt as if she had failed the Divine.

_Failed her for the second time, _Asher realized. _Cassandra still hasn't forgiven herself for not saving Divine Justinia.- for not being there no matter how impossible the situation was._

"The Inquisition _has _a leader" Varric responded to her accusations, gesturing towards Asher.

"Hawke would have been at the Conclave! If _anyone_ could have saved Most Holy…" the pain and grief in Cassandra's voice was barely concealed at this point. Her voice quivered as she paused to reign in her emotions.

Asher sighed. He understood where she was coming from. However her grief led her to place the blame on the wrong person. He was going to need them both working together and in order to do that Cassandra was going to have to stop using Varric as a scapegoat.

"Varric's not responsible for what happened at the Conclave."

"I was protecting my friend" Varric chimed in.

_Not helping Varric._ Asher sighed internally.

"Varric is a liar, Inquisitor. A snake." The sheer menace in her words made Asher wince. "Even after the Conclave, when we needed Hawke most, Varric kept him secret."

"He's with us now. We're on the same side!" the dwarf defended.

"We all know who's side you're on, Varric. It will never be the Inquisition's"

_That was over the line. _"Varric's earned his place here just as much as the rest of the us!" Asher defended the dwarf.

His words must triggered something because the anger seemed to leave Cassandra all at once. What emotion was left seemed to be more grief than anything. "I must not think of what could have been. We have so much at stake. Go, Varric. Just…go. "

Varric almost seemed as if he was going to leave silently, but apparently the dwarf just couldn't go without driving his point home.

"You know what I think? If Hawke had been there he'd be dead too. You people have done enough to him."

After Varric departed Asher sat down with Cassandra. They didn't always agree on things. In fact, she seemed to disagree with his decisions more often than anything. But she still supported him, and he in turn had grown to respect her willpower and tenacity in the face of the impossible. Thankfully all the rage was gone now and their conversation confirmed Asher's suspicions that Cassandra found more fault with herself than with anything Varric had done. He stayed with her for some time, making sure to get her back on her feet before he left to find the dwarf.

When Varric saw the Inquisitor enter through the front door of Skyhold his first reaction was to look down, abashed.

"Are you alright? Cassandra's calmed down. If you want to go talk to her I think she'll be a lot more reasonable." Asher said taking a seat beside the dwarf.

Varric laughed at this. "If it's all the same to you Inquisitor, I think I'll pass." Then looking a tad more apologetic he added "I wasn't trying to keep secrets. I told the Inquisition everything that seemed important at the time."

Asher smiled. "Look Varric. You were protecting your friend. In spite of everything that was happening you wanted to keep Hawke out of it if you could. I respect that. Admire it even. I won't say anything more…just … I hope that one day we can build up a friendship half as strong."

Not waiting for a reply, Asher walked back towards his quarters, placing his hand on Varric's shoulder reassuringly as he passed.

"I know I need to do better. I'm sorry." Varric's reply was spoken so softly that Asher almost missed it, but the sincerity of the words was not lost on him.

The next few weeks passed quickly as Asher was kept busy with a myriad of decisions to make on behalf of the residents of Skyhold and numerous other locations across Thedas. The Inquisition's spies were busy gathering information and new reports kept rolling in every day. So many places were in need of dire assistance in the wake of the turmoil that followed the civil war in Orlais in addition to the numerous rifts that were reported as far west as the Hissing Wastes and as far east as the Storm Coast.

Asher was continuously embarking on expedition after expedition to close these rifts. He generally took along a group of three others from the inner circle with him on these outings. In the beginning it had been Cassandra, Varric, and Solas who accompanied him most. But as the expeditions grew more frequent, he opted to keep changing members so as not to tire out his friends. However Asher himself was not privilege to such luxury. His presence was mandatory to close the rifts and with his newfound position as the Inquisitor he held the diplomatic pull necessary to speak on behalf of the entirety of the Inquisition and make decisions instantly when necessary. Therefore, each and every time the party headed out to resolve a problem, Asher was always at the forefront.

He would be lying if he said it wasn't exhausting. Life as a Dalish hunter had prepared him for all the trekking through rough terrain. However, the continuous fighting was not something he had experience with. It felt like half of Thedas had gone crazy and more often than not Asher found himself returning to Skyhold with his clothes covered in blood. It wasn't even as if it was just demons or red Templars and rogue mages either. The civil war in Orlais meant that both Celene and Gaspard's troops were wreaking havoc across the Exalted Plains without a thought for the villages that were razed in the fighting. As if that wasn't enough the Freemen of the Dales had to add to the confusion, and of course it wouldn't be complete without all the bandits and black market merchants feeding like vultures on the chaos that was erupting around them.

On a more positive note, he was certainly much more adept as a rogue than when all this had first begun. He was going to need to keep sharpening his skills if he wanted to stand evenly alongside the others in battle. Even when Cassandra wasn't out with him in the field, she was continuously seen perfecting her technique on the training dummies. Cullen had even taken to using her in his drills to give his soldiers a proper example. As a result she had unwittingly gained the admiration of many of his men who aspired to rival her skill in battle.

The Iron Bull could often be seen practicing with the Chargers, swapping insults with them as readily as he did blows. And every now and then when Krem thought of a new task for the mercenary group to help further the influence of the Inquisition, The Iron Bull would take his men and head out into battle.

Blackwall was not as conspicuous with his training as the others. Most of the day he would spend doing woodwork, creating detailed models of anything that took his fancy. However, when Asher woke at daybreak to head out on one of his excursions, he could always find the man drilling himself just as hard as any of the others.

And that was just the warriors. Asher was sure the others were just as diligent in mastering their art. Every time he fought beside them he could see the progression in their skills just as markedly clear as his own. It kept him fighting harder, striving to become the Inquisitor they expected him to be. To be a leader that could stand beside them as an equal in battle.

And so far everything seemed to be progressing as well as anyone could expect given the situation. No one had seen Corypheus or the Archdemon since the events at Haven but his influence could not be missed. It took time and much hard work, but the Inquisition seemed to be gaining a foothold in Thedas. Little by little they were bringing back stability to the lives of the villagers and townspeople that were caught in the crosshairs of all the chaos. That, more than anything, was what kept Asher going. It was the feeling that he was actually making a difference in the world in a way that he could never have done before.

Sunset on this particular evening found Asher trudging back into Skyhold from an expedition in the Emerald Graves. Beside him, Cassandra, Vivienne, and Solas all appeared to be as thoroughly exhausted as he felt. They had stumbled upon the Chateau D'Onterre only to find the place haunted. Someone's poor attempt at keeping a mage child hidden had gone terribly wrong and the result was an exhausting combination of an Arcane Horror and an endless assault of corpses.

Too exhausted to say their farewells, the group parted wordlessly to their individual lodgings. Asher stared longingly at the door that led to his own quarters before turning to the stairs that led up to the library instead. It had been a long time since he'd delivered the research materials to Helisma and if he put it off any longer Asher feared he would never get around to it. Chances were he would be just as exhausted the next time he remembered the task so he might as well get it over with before turning in.

Dorian was in his usual chair in the library when he heard Leliana's exclamation from rookery that the Inquisitor had returned.

_Finally._

Looking out the tower window Dorian was able to make out the party of four trudging through Skyhold's courtyard. Their slow gate suggested that the trip had not been easy, but there was no obvious sign of injury. Dorian sighed with relief.

Lavellan had been growing visibly more haggard since he'd taken up the mantle of Inquisitor. While the elf ensured that the members of his inner circle always had ample time to rest he did not allow himself the same comfort. He always seemed to be consumed by whatever task was requested from him and Asher did not seem to know how to refuse or delegate said tasks to other members of the inquisition. Whether it was simply fetching blankets for refugees in the Hinterlands or reclaiming the Exalted Plains from the demons and undead, the Inquisitor always insisted on being there himself. Lavellan was so inundated with requests from people all over Thedas that Dorian had even caught him scribbling notes in a little journal in a desperate effort to keep everything straight. Sometimes it took him days, sometimes it took him weeks but one by one he always managed to cross an item off his list even as ten more were added.

While Dorian admired the Inquisitor's persistence and dedication, he could not help but worry. There were so many people vying for Asher's attention that many times the Inquisitor did not get the opportunity to care for himself. He was always the last one to sleep and the first one awake. Meals were skipped in favor of some important task or another. The worst part was that Dorian did not know how to tell the elf to stop. People's lives were on the line and Thedas was falling apart. If they delayed for even a few hours in getting help to where it was needed, entire villages could be lost. So Dorian did not say anything even as he watched the bags under Asher's eyes grow, as his face grew gaunt, and his body begin to thin.

Dorian was shaken from his thoughts at the sound of someone slowly ascending the spiral stone staircase behind him. Turning, he was surprised to find a thoroughly exhausted elf grinning at him from the archway.

"Evening, Dorian. Still hitting the books? I'm not sure I've ever seen you leave this room. Do you sleep here?" His emerald eyes sparkled with amusement even as his body slumped onto the wall behind him for support.

"Asher! Your powers of observation never fail to amaze." Dorian retorted, his fingers rubbing the tips of his mustache mischievously. "Why so interested in where I sleep?" Dorian raised his eyebrows in a subtly suggestive expression.

His indirect implication passed right over Asher's head, however. The elf responded in complete seriousness. "Because I'll be damned if I'm going back down that staircase. If there's a good place to sleep here. I need to knowww." The end of his sentence slurred into the closest thing to a whine that Dorian had ever heard from Asher.

"Unfortunately, there's only my armchair."

"I'll take what I can get" Asher stuffed his research materials into Dorian's arms before the mage could react and slumped gratefully into the chair.

"Wait…what? What is this gunk? What did you just hand me you conniving rogue?" Dorian's voice quickly rose in pitch as he realized just what the Inquisitor had so nonchalantly placed in his arms.

"I don't think you really want to know." Asher's eyes were closed but the corner of his mouth twitched upward at Dorian's predicament. "Hand them to Helisma for me will you?"

"Helisma?! Then these are… are these _glands_."

"Mmmm. From a corpse. Dead bodies, your favorite." Even in his tired state Asher couldn't let the opportunity slip away. "I do try to think about everyone here you know. Had the hardest time thinking of what to get our resident necromancer when I found just the thing."

Dorian could do little but sputter wordlessly as he sprinted across the library in a hurried attempt to rid himself of the atrocities in his arms. After throwing them unceremoniously onto the research table, Dorian returned in a huff to find that Asher had already fallen asleep.

His mock anger subsided immediately at the sight of the elf in quiet slumber. His head rested against the arm of the chair while his slim frame curled up in an attempt to preserve whatever warmth it could. If he hadn't known him, Dorian might have mistakenly described him with the word fragile based on this scene alone.

_Well what am I supposed to do with you now. I can't leave you here, your body will regret sleeping like that come morning._

Trying not to wake him, Dorian half lifted half dragged Lavellan onto his back and began to carry the elf back to his quarters. Asher subconsciously snuggled up against the warm surface of Dorian's back, making the mage freeze in place as his stomach burst into spontaneous butterflies.

_Uh oh. I'm not falling for him am I? That would most decidedly not be good. The tevinter mage falling for the Herald of Andraste? Not good._

Dorian quickened his pace until he reached Lavellan's room. Gently he places the elf on the bed and turned to leave. As he walked back to the door a small murmur from behind him spoke so softly that the mage almost thought he imagined it.

"Thank you."

_Shit._

_I'm definitely falling for him. _

**Thanks for all the reviews! Sorry this chapter took so long to release, I had to rewrite it a few times to get it where I wanted it. It is longer than the other ones though so there's that! Please R&R if you get a chance :D**


	4. Chapter 3

"What are you looking at Sparkler?"

Dorian jumped. That damnable rogue could be so quiet when he wanted to.

"Now why would our resident Tevinter mage be staring out the window with such a melancholy expression?" Varric continued. "You look like you're pining after a fair maiden."

Dorian ignored the slight flush rising to his cheeks. "I'm not pining." He retorted indignantly.

Varric ignored Dorian, and glanced out the window. "Isn't that our beloved Inquisitor?" he lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "Not a maiden then, but certainly fair."

Dorian smirked. "Lavellan is attractive, I won't deny it. I'm simply enjoying the view."

Although his demeanor emanated confidence, within, Dorian's thoughts were in turmoil. The mage had just recently come to the realization that he _might_ have feelings for Lavellan. He certainly hadn't come to terms with them, nor was he ready to accept the implications of what these feelings might be. And somehow Varric had already figured him out. If nothing else, the dwarf was certainly perceptive.

_There are no feelings. There _can't _be any feelings. Lavellan is good company, and he certainly is easy on the eyes but that's all. _Dorian reasoned with himself. The last thing he needed was to push away one of the few people in the Inquisition that did not treat him like an evil magister.

As if reading his mind, Varric echoed his thoughts. "The Herald of Andraste though? Might not be a good idea."

"What are you after, Varric?" Dorian sighed. _He's not going to let this go, is he?_

"Just making friendly conversation, Sparkler. And I might be able to offer you some advice. Maker knows that Hawke bugged me about his love life enough. I'm practically an expert."

"Does it matter?" Dorian queried "Can't I admire his physical…attributes without the intent to form any sort of attachment? Even _if_ - and by no means am I confirming any of your conspiracy theories – even _if_ the possibility exists that I might want to pursue _something. _He hasn't shown any interest in men. He's made it quite clear that he values me as a friend. Nothing will come of it."

It hurt a little to admit that out loud, but it was the truth. In the time since Dorian had met Asher back in Redcliffe, the elf hadn't shown any sort of inclination to either gender. Not even a cursory appreciation of one's figure with his eyes. But even disregarding that, the Inquisitor seemed to value the companionship of Solas and Cassandra most. The two accompanied Lavellan on his outings more often than any of the others, and he was often seen in their company within Skyhold as well. There was no place for Dorian at Asher's side as anything but a friend.

"Probably for the best." Varric replied softly. "If our elf friend is really the Herald, it doesn't bode well for his future. Things didn't turn out so good for Andraste. And if he's not the Herald, then well he's shit out of luck. I've written enough tragedies to recognize where this is going. The chances of any of us coming out of this thing alive are minimal at best. The chance of the Inquisitor getting out of this alive, are practically nil. Chantry lore doesn't have a high track record of keeping its heroes alive. "

Dorian's head snapped up in time to watch Varric quietly leave the room. He was right of course. As far as the Corypheus was concerned, the elf was the only thing in Thedas standing between him and godhood. Failure to kill Corypheus was the same as sentencing Lavellan to death; and a great many others besides. Even if they succeeded, there was a large chance that Asher would fall to martyrdom.

The mage stared sadly out the window, looking down at the Inquisitor. Asher was in the midst of a very animated conversation with the Iron Bull that soon transitioned into something of a friendly brawl.

_I don't want to see the day he doesn't come back._

* * *

><p>Asher hobbled into the great hall of Skyhold for the midday meal.<p>

"I'm guessing your little training session with The Iron Bull didn't go quite as well as you would have liked." Cassandra observed, nodding at Asher from her place at the table.

The elf grinned at her. "Oh the sparring isn't the issue. The giant piece of muscle decided to slap me on the back at the end of it all. Probably his idea of showing camaraderie or something. It felt like getting rammed by a charging Druffalo. I don't think my back will ever recover."

As he spoke, Asher lowered himself into his chair gingerly. So far the only other person at the table was Cole, soundlessly eating his meal.

"I'm surprised you're here so early, usually you're the last one to come to the table, if you come at all." Cassandra pushed the platter of chicken towards him, and Asher helped himself to a leg, about to answer when Cole spoke for him.

"I can't afford to waste time. Hurting. So many people hurting. Loud. I can't hear my own thoughts. But it's quiet there with the books. He makes me smile."

Asher's head swiveled so fast that his neck cricked.

"COLE!" he coughed, choking on a combination of chicken and spittle.

"It's been a while since I've been able to talk so freely with someone." the spirit continued, unperturbed by the Inquisitor's outburst. "Hooves pounding upon the dirt. A yell in the distance. The sound of metal on flesh. Screams. He runs –hot blood dripping down his face. Bodies everywhere. The fire is warm. But it's cold. Everyone is cold."

Asher froze. The blood in his cheeks quickly draining away.

"Cole." His voice was almost a whisper, the strain clearly audible.

"It's hurting. I wanted to help but I made it hurt." Cole's eyes widened as he realized the effect of his words on the Inquisitor.

Asher forced his face into a tight smile. "It's okay Cole. I….I just – I should go. There's a lot more work to be done." He turned to leave the table almost bumping into the mage behind him.

Lavellan's eyes widened at the sight of Dorian. Had he heard it all? He nodded at the man and hastily retreated to the war room and the safety of his duties.

* * *

><p>Dorian stood frozen as he watched the color in Asher's face drain to a sickly pallor. When the elf turned to face him, his eyes were watering, fiercely holding back the tears that threatened to fall. And then there was the smile. That smile that wasn't a smile – pasted on his face in an attempt to convince the rest of world that everything was okay. When it was clear- when the pain in his eyes screamed that it wasn't. He wanted to reach out. To stop him. To ask him what was wrong. But that wasn't his place. A piercing pain stabbed through his heart as Asher's shoulder brushed past his own. Cole had tread into a place where no one was welcome. It wasn't Dorian's place to help, but then who's was it? Asher was the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, constantly surrounded by people - admired, exalted, revered. And yet, he was alone. There was no one more isolated within the Inquisition than the Inquisitor himself. The emotions of an individual were not relevant when the people required a symbol. Lavellan was working to become that symbol, but at what cost?<p>

Dorian's eyes fell to Lavellan's plate, still barely touched on the table. Another missed meal.

* * *

><p>Asher was distracted from his paperwork from a knock at the door. The golden red tinge of the sun as it sank beneath the mountain peaks was his only clue to the hours that had passed. The knock came again, more insistent this time, and before he could say anything the door cracked open.<p>

"I'm letting myself in. I do so tire of standing in the hall." The playful lilt of Dorian's voice drifted up from the bottom of the stairwell bringing a small smile to Asher's tired face.

As the footsteps climbed the stairs, a savory smell wafted into the room, reminding Asher of his missed meals. Soon Dorian was standing before him, the source of the smell balanced gracefully in his hands.

"An Altus does not bring food for just anybody. I expect you to eat every last bite." With a grand gesture as if presenting a king with his crown, Dorian placed the meal on the table, not sparing a thought for the numerous papers and reports that were flattened underneath.

Asher chuckled, pleasantly surprised at the interruption. "Dorian!" He protested, but there was no real heart in his words. Out of everyone in the inquisition, he enjoyed spending time with the Tevinter mage most. The man dispensed with the formalities that the others seemed to think were required and his use of sarcasm and wit never failed to amuse.

So he raised his hand in surrender. "Very well Master Pavus. You have my full attention."

Dorian smiled at his success. "Well of course I have your attention. Not everybody can look as dashing as I do. I can't blame you for wanting a good look."

"Oh get off your high horse." Asher couldn't help but laugh as he chucked a piece of fruit at the mage.

"Now, now." Dorian shook his head as he caught the apple. "Jealousy is an ugly emotion Asher. I thought better of you."

"You are incorrigible."

The two exchanged similar banter for some time while they ate before falling into a companionable silence.

"Why do you do it?" the mage asked suddenly.

Asher looked up from his plate. "Do what?"

"Stay. You could have left. You didn't have to become the Inquisitor. But you did."

A sad smile played across Lavellan's face. "I ran away once. I was scared and I ran. And not a day goes by that I don't wish I hadn't stayed and fought. For all the good I might have done. It would have been better for me to die there. But I am a coward, so I ran and I lived while those I held most dear to me died. I will not make the same mistake again." His fingers absentmindedly traced the scar across his left eye as he spoke.

Asher's declaration was met with silence for a time. Inwardly he cringed. The response had been too heavy. No one would want to hear about his personal struggles. Surely Dorian had expected an answer more suitable for the Herald of Andraste. Something about how it was the right thing to do and that he would gladly lay his life down for so a noble cause.

The smile came to his face naturally. It was a mask he had used many times before.

"Ahahaha you should see your face. So serious. Varric would be ecstatic if the hero of this story had such a tragic backstory. His book would practically write itself. Unfortunately my life isn't that convenient of a tale. Truth is I really like this room. I'm not going to get another chance to sleep on a bed like that if I leave." The bluster came out easily enough and Asher watched with bated breath for the mages reaction.

Dorian shook his head in disbelief. Setting down his dish on the table, he rose from the chair and walked over to Asher. Lifting his hand in front of Lavellan's face, Dorian proceeded to flick the elf on his forehead.

"Hey! What was that for?!" Asher exclaimed in surprise. He wasn't sure what he had expected from Dorian but this certainly wasn't it.

"You are a fool, Asher."

Lavellan looked up at Dorian, confused. Before he could ask the mage what he meant however, he was drawn into a tight embrace. Asher froze at the contact, still unsure as to what was happening.

Dorian wrapped his arms around the elf and felt the small body tense at the contact. Trying to ignore the wild pounding of his own heart, Dorian spoke softly, reassuring Asher.

"There's no need to pretend everything is okay, my friend. I don't want to see you smiling when you don't mean it."

The heat rose to Asher's cheeks. Dorian had seen straight through everything. Even more than that the mage was allowing him to be himself. It felt like a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders and Asher slumped gratefully into Dorian's chest, allowing himself to truly relax for the first time in what felt like ages.

Dorian felt Asher relax and once more his heart began beating wildly at their closeness.

_Not now. _He thought furiously, trying to get his feelings under control. The last thing he needed was to drive Asher away when the elf seemed to finally be opening up to him.

They remained in the position for some time, before a deeply embarrassed Asher finally extricated himself from Dorian's embrace. He could feel Dorian's gaze following him, but could not bring himself to meet the mage's eyes.

"Thank you" he mumbled. "When I left my clan to spy on the conclave I never imagined that I would find such a friend as you have been to me."

"Yeah well you haven't been so horrible yourself" Dorian quipped.

Asher, still finding it hard to look at the mage, found himself staring out the window. His eyes widened when he saw that the sun had long since disappeared over the horizon.

"Creators!" he cursed. "I've kept you far longer than I should have. And there's still so much work to be done."

"No harm done there. The only thing I have waiting for me is a book. It comes highly recommended: _Hard in Hightown_ by our very own Varric Tethras. You'll know if it's as good as everyone says if I still haven't managed to fall asleep by morning." Dorian winked turning to leave.

He paused on the staircase. The words had been on the tip of his tongue earlier but he wasn't sure if it was wise to say them.

_Fasta vass, just get it over with._

"I do not know what happened, but for what it's worth…I am glad you survived. You are many things Lavellan but a coward is not one of them."

Asher could only stand there stunned as Dorian quietly descended the staircase and closed the door to the hall with a soft thud.


	5. Chapter 4

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" Dorian grumbled as they slowly trudged their way through the Fallow Mire.

"Because you asked?" Asher called from the front of the party. Under normal conditions he would find Dorian's clear discomfort with the outdoors to be amusing but in this swamp Dorian was very much justified in his continuous griping.

The trek through the Fallow Mire had them all at their limit. They weren't so much walking as wading through the swamp and anytime they got too deep into the water they were assaulted by the undead. Asher and Cassandra in particular were both feeling the strain of the continuous fighting in waste deep water. While the mages could fire upon their enemies from where they stood, the two melee fighters had to move through the marsh in order to intercept their attackers.

Asher sighed. The rain had long since soaked through his leather armor leaving him feeling cold and miserable and he was sure the others were in no better condition. The extra weight of his waterlogged clothes made it hard to move around. However he refused to say anything. Cassandra was carrying more than twice the weight he was and she had yet to breathe a word of complaint.

"Well when I asked to join you I didn't know everything was going to be so _wet_. Couldn't you have taken me along on a _different _mission? Somewhere, _anywhere_, but here?""

"There isn't enough time, Dorian. The Inquisition's missing patrols are being held hostage by the Avar. If we delay there's no guarantee that they'll be alive the next time we return."

It was dark and Dorian couldn't make out Asher's face through the rain but he could clearly make out the apprehension in the elf's voice. The Avar had kidnapped the patrols in order to lure the Inquisitor into a battle. Lavellan must be feeling the weight of those lives on his shoulders.

"We're coming up on the second beacon." Asher informed them, his keen eyes making out the shape in the distance. "Dorian, as soon as we're in position I need you to light the beacon. Solas, you're in charge of making sure the barriers stay up for as long as possible. Cassandra, get their attention and keep it. Dorian and Solas will be behind you so make sure nothing gets past your shield."

Cassandra gave a grunt of approval, grinning in spite of the fatigue she was clearly feeling. For what seemed like the hundredth time since he met her, Asher found himself thanking the Creators that she was on their side. Her fierce tenacity would make a daunting foe. Between pissing off Cassandra and pissing off Corypheus, Asher would take his chances against the darkspawn magister.

There was no more time to think as they reached the beacon and Dorian readied himself to light the torch. Asher gave him a small nod of affirmation, and the undead began to rise from the swamp in waves almost immediately. Cassandra let out a war cry that could intimidate a dragon, effectively making herself the primary target for their attackers.

Lavellan slipped into the shadows and pulled out his daggers. Flanking their enemies he plunged his daggers into one of the undead swarming Cassandra. The corpse crumpled to the ground, lifeless once more, as Asher flickered into site again. Solas provided support from the rear, while Dorian let loose ice and electricity, raining the primal energies onto their foes.

Fighting the undead themselves was not difficult. The burden came from the sheer quantity. It seemed like there was an endless supply of dead bodies submerged in the marsh waiting to assault them. Asher was panting, his muscles screaming at the strain of maintaining his normal speed in the water, and still the waves of undead did not falter.

There was a movement out of the corner of his eye and Asher quickly brought up his blades to defend before even turning his head to see what it was. Between the darkness of night and the rain pouring around them he could not afford to rely on his peripheral vision to properly asses the danger.

His blades proved useless however as an arrow flew past his guard, piercing his shoulder and ripping into his flesh. A yelp of pain escaped his lips, but the rogue could not afford to let the pain slow his movements without putting himself and the others at risk. Grinding his teeth against each other, Asher snapped the shaft of the arrow where it protruded from his shoulder. Pain lanced through his body at the sudden jerking motion in his wound. Ignoring the injury as best he could he lifted one of his throwing knives from off his belt and sent it flying toward the offending archer. The resulting _thunk _as the dagger embedded itself into the corpse's skull was all the affirmation he needed to know that he had hit his mark.

Turning back to the others he saw Solas and Dorian being pressured by a new wave of undead from behind. Cassandra was too busy stemming the flow of enemies from the front to assist. The mages were holding their own but the undead were getting closer and the fight would soon move to close quarters combat. Praying to Mythal that his shoulder would hold, Asher aimed his grappling hook at the closest of the undead and yanked hard on the chain. He could feel the tearing of muscle in his shoulder at the motion, the arrow tip - still embedded within - ripping at his insides. But the result was all that mattered. Asher had effectively placed himself between the mages and the influx of undead.

Just in time too, as the corpse soldier brought his blade down in a wide arc from above. Asher quickly lifted his daggers up to catch the blow, or rather attempted to. His right arm remained limply at his side and no amount of force could move it. Cursing Asher barely managed to deflect the blade with his other hand and roll away.

There was no time to assess the damage that he had done to his shoulder by ignoring the wound. Lavellan was still the only physical fighter between the undead and the two mages behind him.

_I'll have to do this one handed then._

Gritting his teeth, Asher pulled another knife from his belt and lodged it into the skull of the corpse to his left. Sprinting forward, he gripped a dagger in his good arm and severed another corpse at the skull. Behind him, Solas managed to put up a barrier before another soldier hit him from the side. Dorian followed with a crackle of electricity, frying the attacker.

The fighting continued for some time until Asher, pulling his dagger out of a corpse, looked up to find Cassandra finishing off the last of the undead.

"You don't think they're waiting to ambush us again" Dorian said squinting at the water suspiciously.

"They had better not." Asher panted. "We have to keep moving. The patrols are still waiting for us. We ne-"

"Lethallin" Solas spoke softly. "You will do them no good if we are barely able to stand when we reach them."

Asher looked around at the others. Although no one was saying anything he could see the fatigue in their eyes and the way they held their bodies. Cassandra's shield arm had dropped from its position, no longer able to sustain the weight. Dorian's shoulders were sagging and he was using his staff to hold himself upright. Feeling guilty at his oversight, Asher turned back to Solas.

"Ir abelas, Hahren. You are right. There should be a location to set up camp ahead."

* * *

><p>Dorian brought up the rear as they trudged to the campsite, thankful for Solas' intervention. He glanced over at Lavellan, marveling at the strength hidden within that small frame. His eyes lingered for a moment, appreciating the sight of a drenched Asher, leather clinging to his skin.<p>

Dorian quickly shook his head. _Don't get carried away._

But really, Asher looked as tired as the rest of them. The elf was pushing himself too hard. He was slumped over, still breathing heavily from the exertion of the fight. One of his hands was gripped tightly around the shaft of his dagger, but the other hung limply at his side.

"You're hurt!" Dorian blurted, his eyes widening in realization.

He rushed forward, turning Asher around to get a closer look at the wound. The jagged end of the broken shaft of an arrow was protruding from Asher's shoulder. A small stream of blood dripped from the wound, but thankfully the arrowhead itself seemed to be stemming most of the blood flow. Still, Dorian could see that it had caused a lot of internal damage.

"Kaffas! Why didn't you say anything?"

Asher turned his head away, not looking Dorian. "Everyone is already drained. It can wait until morning. This isn't a priority."

"Unbelievable! You have an arrow sticking out of your shoulder and you're worried about being a bother? Festis bei umo canavarum! If you keep this up no matter how many lives you have it won't be enough."

Dorian grabbed Asher by the collar and bodily dragged him over to Solas.

"Take care of this idiot before I'm tempted to break his other arm."

Solas snorted in amusement. "Let's make camp first. It'll be easier to look at him out of the rain."

* * *

><p>"How is he?" Cassandra queried as Solas came out of the Inquisitor's tent. He smiled, pleasantly surprised that the other two, although exhausted, had seen fit to remain awake. Lavellan did not seem to realize it but he inspired quite a bit of loyalty in the people around him. Even Cassandra, who butted heads with the Inquisitor more often than the rest of them, could not keep the note of concern out of her voice.<p>

"There was a lot of internal damage, especially to the nerves. That's why he wasn't able to move the arm. But if he can manage to get a good night's rest then he should be good as new in the morning."

"_If_ he can get a good night's rest?" Cassandra pressed, not missing the insinuation.

Solas glanced back at the tent worriedly. "There's a rift somewhere in the marsh. Maybe two."

Dorian watched as a look of understanding dawned on Cassandra's face. "By all means do continue. There's no need to explain anything to me. I'm fine really."

Solas opened his mouth to respond when a muffled voice came from within the tent.

"I can still hear you, you know. I injured my arm not my head!" Asher exclaimed indignantly.

"That point remains up for debate!" Dorian retorted. "Do continue, Solas. What were you saying before you were so _rudely_ interrupted?"

The sound of what could only be described as a splutter of incredulity came from within the tent. A second later the Inquisitor's head popped out. After checking that the canopy was erect and that there was no worry of getting wet, the rest of his body followed.

Dorian found himself struggling not to stare, a battle which he found himself losing. Asher was no longer in his leathers, and his chest was covered in a plain linen shirt, the collar of which was just low enough to be enticing.

The elf, oblivious to the effect he was having on Dorian, straightened himself up to speak. "Don't I get a say in whether or not my private business gets shared?"

The words shook Dorian out of his stupor. "You gave that right up when you decided to traipse around the countryside without an arm!"

"I had an arm! It just…wasn't working…properly."

"My apologies, _Inquisitor. _Your persuasive eloquence is sure to move nations." Dorian's words dripped with sarcasm. "I can see that the inquisition is in capable hands. Now sit down, look pretty and don-"

His words were cut off by the sudden flickering of green light from Lavellan's palm followed by an almost imperceptible wince. Dorian would have missed it if he hadn't been giving Asher his full attention.

"Oh."

Asher sighed. "It's not a big deal."

"How long?" Dorian's voice was oddly serious, any attempt at humor abandoned.

"Since Haven…..It's really not that big of a deal. The pain comes and goes; it's just a little more active around the rifts that's all." Asher grinned up at Dorian, "Pretty handy locater device, actually."

Dorian groaned, looking back at Cassandra "He has absolutely no sense of self-preservation, does he? We're all doomed."

Cassandra nodded solemnly. "Why do you think I insisted on having Solas and myself come out on most of his expeditions? It's the only way I can make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

"Oh really? And here I thought it was your impeccable charm and wit. _Oh wait…_that's me, my mistake." Dorian grinned as Cassandra glared at him.

Asher tried to smother his laugh, but Cassandra heard him. Grunting in disgust, she got up and walked back to her tent "Well if you're going to insist on acting like children, I am going to bed. One of you can keep watch since you're both so lively."

Solas rose as well, his eyes twinkling with excitement despite his apparent fatigue. "I think I'll head off to sleep myself. The Fade awaits. I've never gone in from the Fallow Mire before."

Dorian grunted in incredulity. "We're in the middle of a swamp that reeks of rotting corpses and all he can think about is the Fade. Well his determination is admirable if nothing else."

"It's actually really interesting. Have you ever talked to him about the things he's seen while dreaming? No one else I've ever met has that kind of knowledge or experience." The respect and wonderment that Asher had for the other elf was apparent in his voice.

"Hmm, can't say I've had the pleasure. Speaking of which, Cassandra requested that she and Solas accompany you?"

Lavellan chuckled. "Yes she was very insistent that I bring along at least her or Solas on every outing. Cass figures that if she's not around I should at least bring the healer. Not that Solas minds, as you can see he'll take any chance he can get to explore new areas of the fade."

Dorian took a deep breath. "I wouldn't mind tagging along more often either. I mean you need someone a little more colorful to have your back. Not to mention my presence is an absolute gift, I increase your chances of victory by at least twenty percent just by being here. You can add another thirty percent when I actually start using magic."

Dorian's bold words did not match the nervous tremors in his hands. So far out of all the members of the inner circle, Asher requested Dorian's company the least on any of his numerous expeditions. Well, aside from Iron Bull and Sera. But the two of them were often busy. Iron Bull with his chargers and Sera on numerous shady tasks for her _friends_. Dorian ended up spending all his time in the library reading books and trying to ignore the murmurs and dark looks that people cast in his direction.

All in all, Dorian was confused. Asher seemed to enjoy his company and he had flat out _told_ Dorian that he valued his friendship, but then why didn't the elf want his company outside of Skyhold? An ugly voice in the back of his head insisted that Lavellan didn't want them to be seen together. The inquisition might lose support if it was thought to be associating with a Tevinter magister. Never mind the fact that he wasn't actually a magister.

"You _want _to come along?! I was quite sure that you hated the wilderness. The walking, the camping, the dirt. You're always ranting about it. That's why I've only ever asked you when it was absolutely necessary."

Dorian's jaw dropped. Quite literally. _He was trying to be considerate?!_

"Wait….So that's what this was all about?! I say a lot of things! I like to complain, that's what I do! That doesn't mean anything. If I didn't want to help I wouldn't have joined the Inquisition in the first place. Except for today. You could have left me home today. _The Fallow Marsh_ of all places. Even the name reeks."

Asher smiled. "Well that takes a load off my back. Do you have any idea how tense it gets with Vivienne and Solas together? If words could cut, I'd be dead simply by association. Not even Cassandra gets in the middle of that. Cole, on the other hand, has it easy, he just disappears when things get rough."

They fell into companionable silence, warming themselves by the fire before Asher spoke once more.

"You should go to sleep, Dorian. I'll take the first watch."

"Oh no you don't. Don't you dare. I'm not the one that was injured. You heard Solas. A good night's sleep is what he said. I've kept you up far too long as it is."

"I don't need coddling, Dorian. I'll wake you up in two hours."

"_Coddling?"_ Dorian's voice rose in pitch. "This is not _coddling._ This is simple bedside manner. Now go to your tent or I'll carry you myself."

"You wouldn't"

"Just watch me." Not waiting for a reply Dorian hoisted a very surprised elf onto his shoulder like a child and proceeded to dump him unceremoniously into his tent.

Asher lay on the floor of his tent speechless. Since becoming the Inquisitor no one had treated him so casually. Everyone was so overly aware of his station that it was suffocating. Dorian didn't seem to play by these rules. Had never played by them since the start. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling however. Quite to the contrary, Dorian's playfulness had saved Asher's sanity on a number of occasions.

Sighing, Asher raised his hands in a sign of acquiescence. "I can see I'm clearly not going to get my way here. At the very least can I – aaaghhh"

Lavellan clutched his hand suddenly, an involuntary howl of agony escaping his lips. He doubled over as a searing pain ravaged his arm.

_No Dammit. Keep it together. Not in front of the others. _

In an effort to silence his voice, Asher bit down on his arm. Droplets of blood emerged from where his teeth punctured the skin and flowed in small rivulets down his arm. The green mark on his hand pulsed with light, each pulse crippling him anew.

Dorian watched horrified as the leader of the Inquisition crumpled before his eyes. He dropped to the floor beside Asher, brow creased with concern, but not quite sure how to help. Hands hovered uncertainly mere centimeters from Lavellan's back before finally closing the distance. Asher's body shook violently under his touch and the heat emanating from his back was almost unbearable.

"Hang in there friend, I'll get Solas. He'll be able to help." Dorian quickly got up and was turning to leave when a hand grabbed his ankle, making him pause.

"_Don't_." Asher gasped between gritted teeth. "Don't bother him."

"Look at you though!" Dorian implored, clearly upset. "You can barely move from the pain. He'll be able to get you medicine or _something_."

"It won't help….Just give me…a bit. It'll stop. It always does." The elf's words came out in small rasps.

Dorian looked at him conflicted.

_Always? This isn't something new? _ An image of Asher huddled in the corner of Skyhold, gasping in pain, flashed unbidden in his mind.

"_Please._" Asher was getting desperate. His knuckles turning white as his fingers tightened their hold on Dorian's ankle. "They can't know."

"Asher, they already know." The mage replied confused.

"No…They can't-"Asher had to pause for a moment as the mark flared up again. "They've never seen it like this before. They can't."

"Why on earth not?"

"I'm...I'm the Inquisitor. I can't be a person, I have to be a symbol. No one's going to want to follow _this_." He said gesturing at his body as another spasm of pain racked through it.

Dorian shook his head incredulously. The others wouldn't see the Inquisitor as any less. In fact he was all the more impressive for shouldering his burden without complaint. But from the look in Asher's eyes and the tight grip of his fingers around Dorian's ankle, this was something he would not be able to comprehend. Dorian tabled this particular argument for later.

"What am I supposed to do then? Just sit here and watch you in pain and not do anything?!"

"You don't…have…to watch." Asher's voice came out low, like a whisper. "Someone….someone needs to keep a lookout outside. There's no one…there right now."

"Fasta vass! You want me to just leave!"

"If the camp gets attacked…"

Dorian threw up his arms in frustrations. One the one hand the elf was right. The Fallow Mire was filled with undead and no one knew when the Avvar would attack. If Dorian didn't maintain watch it would be the equivalent of risking everyone's lives. But to leave Lavellan in this state…the idea alone left a bad taste in Dorian's mouth.

"I'll be fine. Go." Asher assured the mage with a pained smile, but Dorian showed no sign of moving. Asher was both touched and frustrated. An ambush here with no one on watch would get them all killed. So he hardened himself for what needed to be done. "Leave now, Dorian. And do not speak of it. That's an order."

Dorian's fingers curled up into tight fists. "_Kaffas._ Fine you shall have your way, _Inquisitor_."

Asher watched as the mage stormed out of the tent without looking back. The use of his title stinging more than a little. Dorian hadn't called him Inquisitor since that first conversation in Skyhold. But before he could dwell on the matter the mark flared and he was once again writhing on the floor in white hot agony.

* * *

><p>Dorian was fuming as he left the tent. Asher very rarely pulled rank, and of all things, to do so on <em>this<em>. He could see the flashes of green light through the canvas of the tent and if he listened closely he could hear the muffled screams of pain. And he had been asked, _no_ _ordered_, to simply walk away and leave the elf to his torture. The reason was logical of course, but it did not make Dorian any less angry.

But he had his _orders_ so he sat by the fire and kept watch. When his shift had ended and the flickering light still came intermittently from the next tent, he opted to remain awake and take the Inquisitor's shift in spite of his own fatigue. When that shift ended as well, the mage reluctantly woke up Cassandra. He spared one last look for his friend before heading into his own tent. However sleep was sporadic at best, impossible to fully grasp. Sunrise would see them both more weary than the previous day.

* * *

><p>Almost a full week later, a thoroughly grimy and irritable group could be seen crossing the bridge into Skyhold. Dorian once again brought up the rear, pointedly keeping his distance from Lavellan. If he distracted himself with other things he could pretend not to know about the bite marks that riddled the Inquisitor's arm from nights of enduring agony in private.<p>

Asher had forbidden him from broaching the subject, so Dorian had trodden down the only path left available to him. He had helped closed the rifts and rescue the Inquisition forces, and to his relief he saw the burden on Lavellan's shoulders lift ever so slightly. The flashing of the mark had stopped and Asher seemed to be resting more peacefully. But Dorian still could not bring himself to return to the casual banter they had shared out of fear of what he might do. He was torn between punching the elf and kissing him and the two were not always mutually exclusive.

So upon their arrival at Skyhold Dorian hurriedly detached himself from the group and retreated to his quarters to rid himself of the mire infested garments. Grabbing a clean set of clothes he then descended directly to the baths. Hours of soaking would not be enough to get the mud out of his pores but Dorian was damned sure he was going to try. Perhaps he could use the time to organize his thoughts. However, when he reached the baths he found Varric and Cullen already within.

_So much for time to organize my thoughts_.

After a quick greeting, Dorian took the time to clean the grime off his body. He then slipped into the bath to soak hoping the other two would leave him to himself.

No such luck.

"Is everything alright, Dorian? Did something happen with the mission?" That was Cullen of course. The man was too good natured for his own good. One would think a former Templar wouldn't take the time to show concern for the resident Tevinter mage, but Cullen was all honesty and virtue. The man would not overlook the troubles of any of his companions.

"Oh the mission was lovely! Fallow and mire and all that. I don't think I'll ever get the stink out." Dorian tried to play his mood off as a point of vanity rather than emotional turmoil.

"I bet something happened with the Inquisitor." Varric needled causing Dorian to groan. That damnable dwarf was ever the perceptive one.

But all it took was a little more prodding and Dorian was raging, letting all of his frustrations loose.

"The man is a masochist! He's a reckless, brash, thoughtless, harebrained idiot with some sort of hero-complex."

"Oh is that all?" Varric smirked. "Tell me. Are we still pretending you don't have feelings for the Inquisitor?"

"Fasta Vass! You just won't let it go will you." Dorian cursed as a muffled choking sound came from Cullen's direction.

"What?!" He snapped at the Commander. Perhaps more harshly than necessary but Dorian was _not_ in the mood for this.

"I- No, um. I- I wish you luck." Cullen stammered, his ears turning red. But the sentiment came out surprisingly sincere and whatever retort Dorian was about to say died on his lips.

The three of them fell into an easy chatter and Dorian was surprised to find that he enjoyed the company of these two. After they got their noses out of his business, of course. He left the baths a good deal more cheerful, promising to join Varric at the tavern for a game of Wicked Grace and the Commander in a match of chess.

* * *

><p>Asher could not help but notice as Dorian stomped across the courtyard of Skyhold without so much as a backwards glance. He was saddened at the distance that seemed to have grown between them.<p>

_Creators, I hope I have not driven you away friend. Fenedhis._

He cursed to himself as he dismounted from the mount that Horsemaster Dennet had gifted him with. Heading to his own quarters, he was stopped by a voice calling out to him.

"Inquisitor, do you have a moment?"

_What now?_ He thought, irritated. Would it kill them to give him a moment to breathe after getting back?

He was the Inquisitor however and he had a duty to these people. So as exhausted and covered with mud as he was, Asher turned around to find Mother Giselle calling out his name.

_This should be interesting._

**I wanted to thank everyone for the lovely reviews! It keeps me motivated to know that people are enjoying my work. I know this chapter took a bit to get out but I was struggling with Dorian and Asher. They never listen to me and go off and do their own thing so I'm stuck picking up the pieces after them. I am still going forward with this however, and finally getting to Dorian's personal mission!**

**Please read and review. I always welcome constructive criticism as well. Never written a romance before so if I'm screwing it up terribly I'd like to know :D**

**Thanks again! You guys are great!**

**Notes: I have a few words in Elven and Tevene in this chapter. Translations are below**

**Tevene: **

**Festis bei umo canavarum - **** You will be the death of me**

**Fasta vass - **** A swear word **

**Kaffas - **** Shit**

**Elven:**

**Ir abelas - **** I am sorry**

**Hahren - **** Elder, used as a term of respect.**

**Fenedhis - **** Elven curse**


	6. Chapter 5

Asher stared at the letter in his hands. Dorian was not going to like this. Dorian was _really_ not going to like this.

And to be honest who could blame him? What kind of father tried to trick his own son into a meeting? Asher knew that things between them were shaky at best but Dorian had not gone into details and Asher had not pressed the issue.

Then there was Mother Giselle. For a member of the chantry she seemed overly eager to play along in this farce. To even suggest that he bring Dorian to Redcliffe completely unaware of the situation was tantamount to emotionally blindsiding the man. Dorian deserved better. It was a shame that Asher seemed to be the only one who thought so.

_Well best get this over with_.

The Inquisitor started towards the library, still in his mud-covered clothing courtesy of the Fallow Mire, fully intent on speaking with Dorian about the contents of the letter when a voice called to him from across the hall.

_Again?! Honestly._

Asher tried to hide his aggravation as he turned to see an inquisition courier jogging towards him.

"Can this wait?" He asked, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice as the man stopped to catch his breath for a moment.

The man shook his head, almost apologetically. "I know you just returned Inquisitor, but your presence has been requested in the War Room. Leliana asked that I bring you as soon as you arrived."

Asher looked down at the man and sighed. The poor courier seemed terrified of what Leliana would do if he failed to return with the Inquisitor. Taking pity, Asher reluctantly allowed himself to be lead back to the War Room where his advisors were already waiting within.

The meeting was long but productive. Lavellan received reports on the status of operations from Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine respectively. That was the easy part. Everyone then proceeded to argue about which new operations took priority and who should be in charge of their completion. Leliana and Cullen in particular frequently fell into disagreement about whether subtlety or force was required for an operation. After a few hours in which the direction of the conversation seemed to go in circles Asher had had enough and intervened.

"Leliana, send your agents to Denerim. Discretion will be more useful in hunting down the Venatori spies than an open manhunt. Cullen I need your men working the Templar's from Hasmal to safely bring the mages back to Skyhold. Josephine, I leave the matter with Serault in your hands. I trust your emissary will be able to handle the investigation. Now, if I may take my leave. I've been in these clothes for far too long and I think I deserve a bath and long rest. Creators and the Maker both smite the man who wakes me before I've gotten at least six hours of-"

A heavy knock on the door interrupted the Inquisitor's rant. Whoever it was did not bother to wait for admittance, as the doors to the war room swung open almost immediately after the knock.

"Inquisitor, Spymaster, I apologize for the interruption. We've discovered a rift in the Hinterlands that was missed in our first pass." A scout stood panting in the doorway.

Asher's head snapped up at that. "We missed one?! Where?"

"In the falls, a little ways east from Master Dennett's farm, Your Worship."

"_Fenedhis_." Asher cursed. How could they miss this? His mark had not been throbbing significantly the last time he was in the area. Could the rift have just newly opened? Or was it possible that the falls somehow obscured his connection to this particular rift. Asher shook his head - there would be plenty of time to think on it later. For now, there was work to be done.

"I need Blackwall, Cole, and Vivienne to meet me at the gates immediately." He ordered the scout. "Make sure their mounts are prepared by the time they get there."

The scout nodded, rushing off to fulfill his orders.

"And make sure they know that whoever isn't at the gate in fifteen is going to be left behind." Asher called after him.

Lavellan turned back to the others. "Well it doesn't look like I'm going to get that bath after all."

"Inquisitor." That was Josephine. "Before you leave, another letter arrived addressed to you. The sender's name is the same as the others."

Asher froze, the line of his jaw hardening at the news. "Have it delivered to my quarters and placed with the others."

"If I may Inquisitor-"Josephine began.

"_You may_ _not_." Asher practically growled. "I'll thank you not to get involved in my private affairs, Josephine."

With that he turned, exiting the room. But not before he caught a glimpse of the saddened expression that colored the face of his diplomatic advisor.

_Well you botched that up quite nicely. First Dorian, now Josephine. Your list of friends grows ever smaller._

* * *

><p>Dorian was walking back to his quarters from the baths when he spotted the Inquisitor mounting a horse by the gate. Cole and Blackwall were already mounted beside him, and a fourth horse was prepared for what he assumed would be their last companion.<p>

Momentarily forgetting that he was supposed to be angry with Asher, Dorian ran up to the elf.

"You're leaving again?! But we just got back a few hours ago!"

Asher nodded wearily. "The scouts found a rift in the Hinterlands that was missed. We can't afford to delay."

"Can't it wait until morning? You'll be riding through the night if you leave now and you still haven't gotten any rest since our return from the Mire. Look at you, you haven't even had a chance to get out of those clothes."

"The rift is close enough to Master Dennet's farm to pose a risk. We've been lucky so far but if the demons move too far from the rift than his wife and daughter will be in danger."

Asher's hands tightened their grip on the reins.

"I'm the one that convinced him to come out here, Dorian. His family is my responsibility. If it weren't for me he would still be by their side. And the crossroads are not too far from the area. If the demons ever got that far….the refugees aren't equipped to fight the demons, even with our scouts present. It will be a massacre."

Dorian watched as Asher worked to get his emotions back under control. For the elf to feel so much for people that he barely knew spoke volumes about his character.

"I'll come with you." The words were out of his mouth before Dorian even had the time to process them. All he knew was that the man before him looked exhausted. Dark bags had made themselves at home beneath his eyes and limbs still weary from their previous venture rested tiredly upon his horse.

"Dorian Pavus give up his beauty rest? I wouldn't dream of allowing such a thing." The hints of a smile blossomed on Asher's face. Good humor finding its way through the fatigue in his bones.

"I'm being serious here!" Dorian replied indignantly.

"I know you are, friend." Asher spoke softly. "And the gesture warms the heart, but I would not ask you to leave again so soon without proper rest. I quite enjoy your company, Dorian. Don't ask me to take such a foolish risk with your life."

"And what of your life?" Dorian protested, heart pounding at Lavellan's words.

"Ah, haven't you heard? I'm the Inquisitor. It'll take an act of the Maker to strike me down!" That grin was back on the elf's face, playfully deflecting.

"Hogwash." Dorian scoffed. "You don't even believe in the Maker."

Asher's grin widened into a smile. "Yes, but no one else seems to take notice." The smile disappeared now as Asher glanced nervously at Dorian.

_No time like the present._

"Dorian, I…uh…I owe you an apology. For earlier. That night in the tent. I should not have snapped at you so brusquely."

"No you shouldn't have." Dorian agreed. "But we'll save that for later. I have an entire diatribe planned out for you to hear on that particular matter. It would be a disservice to cut it short seeing as how your last companion has arrived."

Asher glanced over to find Vivienne striding pridefully across the courtyard.

Dorian continued as she mounted her horse, his tone almost shy. "Make sure you come back to hear it."

It was then that Asher graced him one of those rare sincere smiles. Not the smiles he used for visiting dignitaries, or to convince someone that he was alright. A genuine smile that reached his eyes and crinkled the skin. Dorian's stomach flopped at the sight, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears that he had to strain to hear Asher's next words.

"When I get back you can berate me all you like. I quite believe I deserve it." Asher turned calling out to the others to ensure there preparedness before turning back. His voice softer this time. "I'll see you soon." A hand reached out towards Dorian, and lightly traced down the side of his cheek. Dorian's breath hitched at the gesture, his skin tingling in its wake.

Then all too suddenly it was gone and Asher was riding out through the gates leaving Dorian frozen, unsure of how to interpret the gesture. Little butterflies of hope dared to set themselves loose in the pit of his stomach, dancing and fluttering about.

_Don't be ridiculous. It meant nothing to the man._ Dorian quashed the hope as suddenly as it appeared. It would not do to get his expectations out of hand.

A voice calling out his name shook Dorian from his thoughts.

"Messere Pavus, I've a letter for you."

Curious, Dorian took the letter from the courier and opened it, quickly perusing its contents. His heart dropped, all thoughts of his earlier interaction with the Inquisitor wiped from his mind, as the purpose of the letter made itself known to him.

_Felix._

Shaking hands folded the letter as he struggled to maintain control.

"You may go." He barely managed to get the words out, dismissing the courier.

Dorian beat a hasty retreat back to his quarters, slamming the door closed before allowing his emotions to take control. No longer capable of supporting his own weight, he fell back against the door, sliding into a crumpled heap on the floor. Silent tears streamed down his face as sobs shook his body. All the while not a single sound was heard outside the room to hint at the mage that was crumbling to pieces inside. A thankless remnant of his days Tevinter.

* * *

><p>It was two days later when the Inquisitor and company were seen crossing the bridge into Skyhold. Asher was feeling a little guilty for having them driven them as hard as he had, but the emotion was muted by his own exhaustion. The journey to the Hinterlands took nearly a day, and ordinarily after closing the breach Asher would have given the group a moment to rest before heading back, but the thought of the letter from Magister Halward weighed heavily on his mind. Asher had no way of knowing how long the family retainer would be waiting in Redcliffe, and there had been no chance to tell Dorian about the letter before his hasty departure to close the last rift in the Hinterlands.<p>

And so, to the displeasure of current company, after riding through the night to close the rift the Inquisitor had made them all get back on their horses again and hurry back to Skyhold. However, two nights without sleep following his venture to the Fallow Mire was starting to take its toll on the elf.

Dismounting the horse, Asher teetered unsteadily for a moment before finding his balance. He stood there, weighing his options. He could grab a few hours sleep and then search for Dorian, but he was already late in delivering the message. Dorian might need the time to process and decide how he wanted to proceed.

Sighing, Asher dragged his feet toward the library. This was not going to be an easy conversation, but at the very least after it was over he could finally get some rest.

"If you're looking for Sparkler, he's not there."

Asher blinked wearily, spotting Varric leaning against the wall in the main hall. Somehow his brain had not registered the detail earlier.

"He's been drinking in the tavern for almost the entire day." Varric continued.

"The entire day?" Asher asked, concerned. Dorian was no stranger to drink and he often spent his evenings in the tavern with Bull and the others, but he usually showed some restraint.

Not waiting for a reply, Asher turned around, his eyes lingering on the door to his quarters for a moment, before heading back out to the courtyard.

Opening the door to the tavern, he scanned the room finding Dorian with ease. The mage was seated at the bar trying to cajole Cabot into allowing him another drink. The dwarf, however seemed to be adamantly refusing.

Quietly, Asher walked up to Dorian and sat down on the stool next to him, thankful to be finally off his feet.

"Asher!" Dorian exclaimed jovially. "Good, you're back! Just in time to tell this man to give me another drink. He seems to think that he's within his rights to cut me off just because I've been here all day." Dorian's features turned into a scowl at this last bit of news, staring at the dwarf as if he had personally affronted him.

"I think you've had quite enough, Dorian." Asher spoke softly, putting his hand on Dorian's shoulder in an effort to steer the man away from the bar.

"I most certainly have not!" Dorian stood angrily, brushing Asher's hand aside. However his heated gesture was punctured by his sudden plummet to the floor.

Asher was quickly at his side, holding Dorian up as he retched his innards on the tavern floor.

"That's it! Get this man out of my bar at once or so help me I will make sure he never sets foot in here again." The barkeep was livid, most likely due to the unattractive pile of puke that was newly gracing his precious floorboards.

Dorian groaned as Asher lifted him up. The mage's feet did not seem to be listening to him.

"C'mon you lump, help me out here. I can't drag you all the way back." Asher nudged Dorian in an effort to get him back on his feet but all he got for his effort was a new blotch of bile all over his boots.

It took all of Asher's willpower not to drop Dorian and back away. Instead he put Dorian's arm over his head, and wrapped his fingers around Dorian's waist to better support the mage.

The elf thanked recent event for developing his muscles enough that he was somehow able to drag Dorian out of the bar without too much hassle. However, when he reached the stairs to Skyhold's main hall Asher had the sudden realization that he had no idea where Dorian's room was. For all of Dorian's confidence and projected good cheer, the man certainly liked his privacy.

Turning his head, Asher had every intention of asking Dorian for the location of his quarters, however the words died on his lips at the sight before him. The mage had fallen asleep, his head lolling to the side and Asher's support was the only thing still holding him up.

Sighing, the elf stood there for a moment, toying with the idea of waking Dorian, but something told him to let the man rest. Hoisting Dorian on his back to better support the sleeping man, Asher began to make his way up the stairs and towards his own quarters. Unfortunately, this positioned Dorian's head on Asher's shoulder and the feeling of Dorian's breath on his ear was distracting to say the least.

By the time they reached the door to Asher's room, the flush on his cheeks would have been visible to anyone that cared to look. Blissfully, it was the middle of the night and all the usual people loitering in the main hall were absent.

"Whose great idea was it to make the entrance to my room straight out of the main hall anyway" Asher grumbled to himself as he fumbled with the doorknob.

Entering the room he lay Dorian gently on the bed and covered him with a blanket lest the man awaken with a diatribe of how much he hated the southern cold.

And then because he did not wish to give Dorian the wrong impression should the mage wake first, he dragged a chair over to the bed and took a seat.

* * *

><p>Dorian awoke with a groan. There was morning light streaming through the windows and the light was too bright for him to handle. Grabbing a pillow, he tried to burry himself beneath it in an effort to subdue the pounding of his head. Memories of the day before, of drinking at the tavern began to play through his head.<p>

With a start Dorian realized that he had no idea how he'd gotten into this bed in the first place. A quick check ensured that all his clothes were still in place. There were small mercies in the world after all.

_Where am I anyway?_

A quick peak around the pillow that was currently protecting his eyes confirmed Dorian's suspicions that this was certainly not his own room. Bracing himself against the sunlight, he removed the pillow to get a better look at his surroundings.

The elf snoozing in the chair beside the bed told him all he needed to know.

_Of all the people to make a fool of myself with, it had to be him. _

Dorian tried to crawl out of the bed, fully intending on leaving before Asher could wake up, but the sudden movement sent a new wave of pain lacing through his head and all he actually managed to do was groan.

Asher blearily opened his eyes at this sound, his eyes moving towards the source before consciousness was fully realized.

"Dorian, you're awake."

The image of the elf before him, sleepily trying to open his eyes was so endearing that Dorian could not help but tease him.

"If you wanted to get me in your bed there are easier ways to do it."

_Was that a flush in his cheeks?_

"Of course, next time I'd prefer it if you were actually in the bed with me."

_Yup definitely a flush_


End file.
